


Take the Omega Out

by TellMeNoAgain



Series: Avengers UnPacked [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mental Instability, Multi, Omegaverse, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: Look, people are still encouraging me to have fun in this A/B/O AU, so that's what I'm doing.  You haters leave me alone.  It's playtime.~~~The asset trails the three visible snooping assholes, wary for the invisible fourth.  The longer it follows them, the more unpredictable they become, until it must follow because it cannot run odds on where they could go next, what they could do.  The gooey scent sets off several alarms as the asset follows its mission targets, all violently suppressed by the priority mission reminder. The asset is not tracking the aberration cascades but there are… if it could feel alarmed, it would.  There have been so many, so quickly. It has twice woken up to find it has drifted so close that all they would have to do is turn around to spot a fella. Aberration logging disengaged.The asset’s lips are peeled back in a smile.  It covers its teeth again. This has happened many times, in the last few hours.  Function of pattern of asset behavior: unknown. Unrelated to cover identity.The three pause under a streetlight and the asset freezes, staring covertly over at them.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Darcy Lewis/Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark/Steve Rogers
Series: Avengers UnPacked [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623790
Comments: 32
Kudos: 106





	Take the Omega Out

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is what happens when I read a recommended story that turns into reading TEN A/B/O fics, find out that there are no RULES for this shit, and decide, "Well, fuck it, if everyone's having fun in this sandbox, I'm going to, too."
> 
> You don't have to like it, I promise. But I had a whole lot of fun writing it.
> 
> Beta'd by my brave jf4m and mindwiped, who are easily the most courageous people on the planet, because I threw this at them and said JESUS CHRIST I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I'M SORRY, and then they corrected my spelling and caught my errors like the pros they are, anyway.
> 
> I've put links to the fics I read to learn about A/B/O in the end notes of the first story.
> 
> Every remaining mistake and all the broken things about the rules of this AU belongs to me. Me and 3 AM, baby.

The asset tilts his head, because there it is, apple pie, _jackpot!_ Cascade noted. Cascade.

The asset shakes its head, but doesn’t note the aberration. There’s no need to, because- because it has to complete the mission. It must “find the snooping asshole and take him out before he blows our cover.”

Alpha male found, again. Every night for the last seven, the asset has identified the alpha male, the alpha female, and trailed them. There has never been a good opportunity, and the cascades are getting worse, they’re interfering with optimal performance, the cascades are- the asset lost hours this afternoon, and woke up in a library, in the biography section, wetness dripping down its face. The behavior was wildly outside of the cover identity’s function, but the asset was alone in the stacks. No one witnessed the aberration. The mission holds top priority, and the safety override is engaged. All available resources have been subordinated to the mission. No re-programming allowed.

The asset feels its face shift into a smile and shifts uncomfortably, feet slipping it closer and closer to the apple pie scent. There’s several others overlaying the apple pie, and at first the asset identifies only the fresh-baked bread of the alpha woman’s. Slowly, it becomes clear that the soft, gentle vanilla and the gooey sweet scent are also traveling with the baked bread- _toast? Is that toast? Toast is, is, is, is_ \- and the apple pie tonight. Four snooping assholes. Four. Two alphas, two omegas. Unknown number of betas. Four or more, then. 

The asset considers the odds of an altercation. Every alarm system in the asset’s body rings out at once, loud and clear and violently suppressed by the priority mission reminder. Mission holds top priority. Safety override engaged. All available resources subordinate to the mission.

The asset gasps and springs forward, hoping to dull the ache in his goddamn head by finding the fella and teaching him a lesson about territory already. 

The asset shakes its head to clear it. Aberration logging disengaged.

~~~

The asset trails the three visible snooping assholes, wary for the invisible fourth. The longer it follows them, the more unpredictable they become, until it must follow because it cannot run odds on where they could go next, what they could do. The gooey scent sets off several alarms as the asset follows its mission targets, all violently suppressed by the priority mission reminder. The asset is not tracking the aberration cascades but there are… if it could feel alarmed, it would. There have been so many, so quickly. It has twice woken up to find it has drifted so close that all they would have to do is turn around to spot a fella. Aberration logging disengaged.

The asset’s lips are peeled back in a smile. It covers its teeth again. This has happened many times, in the last few hours. Function of pattern of asset behavior: unknown. Unrelated to cover identity.

The three pause under a streetlight and the asset freezes, staring covertly over at them.

Apple-pie alpha leans over into the omega’s space and engages in scenting behavior. Inappropriate for this venue, supplies the cover identity with a sniff of disgust. The smell of the gooey sweetness wafts down the street to where the asset is tucked in the shadows of an ornate doorway. The apple-pie alpha releases the omega, and stalks off. The asset has constructed an extensive map of the area over the past few weeks, the apple pie alpha is headed north on Hampshire Avenue. The other alpha is walking along Hampshire Avenue in the opposite direction, already half-way down the block and almost out of sight from the asset’s current vantage.

The omega shifts his weight, under the lights, and then steps forward, into the dark alley.

The aberration cascade almost throws the asset out into the street as every alarm in the asset’s programming also goes fucking haywire. The omega must not be allowed to be unescorted. The omega is precious. The omega is unsafe. The omega smells so fucking tasty, would love to get a nip of that.

The asset’s breathing is harsh as it follows the omega into the darkness. Heart rate elevated. Cascade noted. Cascade. 

Cascade.

~~~

This is probably the second worst night of Peter’s entire life, he thinks. There’s no way Alpha missed how fucking hot that made him, and it’s so gross, because, like, Steve is _Steve_ , you know? Pack Alpha. Most of the time he reminds Peter of Ben, for godsake. But there’s Natasha’s scent literally wafting up from his crotch and he shouldn’t be held responsible for getting turned on a little, he’s been slightly _slicking_ for the last half-hour. Dammit, this mission blows and next time he’s letting Tony do it, even if it’s unsafe.

Well.

No.

Peter heaves a sigh, and comes to a stop in the middle of the darkest patch in the alley, senses extended. He can hear the hesitant footsteps that have been trailing them for the past few hours. He didn’t say anything to the other two, and they didn’t really ask, but he can hear them. They falter, every once in a while, or drift closer, clumsy, but they’re there. The guy is following them. Following him, now, Peter supposes, willing his heart rate to stay slow and steady, willing himself to stay, you know, kinda turned on and kinda bored. Keep that scent approachable.

He thinks about Natasha and Bruce and Clint, how they hold him during his heats, how they run careful hands across his stretched-tight skin. He thinks of how Clint’s kisses taste, then, beta-clean and safe, so safe, in the nest, how Natasha’s clit feels as it slides in and knots, the feel of her pretty knot inside him. Bruce is like a furnace, and he burrows in, thinks Peter. It’s so nice to have another guy who gets it, who understands, around when he goes all hindbrain brainless.

The footsteps are so close, now, at the mouth of the alley. Peter doesn’t turn. He’ll wait. He’ll wait and see. He can web the guy from here, if he needs to, web him and wrap him, and Steve’ll be on them in like two, he can still hear Steve’s heartbeat, he’s totally still within calling distance. Natasha’s a little further out, but he thinks he can hear the suit in between him and Natasha so that makes sense. If there’s going to be an alpha fight, she shouldn’t get pulled in by accident.

The footsteps creep- and boy, is that ever a perfect word for this situation, this is the textbook definition of _creepy_ \- closer yet, until they stop. Peter can hear the guy’s ragged breathing, how fast his heart is pumping, can hear some kind of mechanics whir along his left side. No scent reaches his nose yet, but that’s okay. Peter’s smelled enough to know the guy is brownies. Even if they’re messed up brownies- they smell frozen? or something?- they better be able to flip him, because brownies are the best, okay? Hydra is in the dictionary under evil but some things are even worse than evil and bad brownies? Top of that list.

Peter shifts his weight, just a little, just to get ready, in case, and the guy croons, softly, in a voice that doesn’t sound like it gets used a lot, “Shhh, oma, shhh.”

What the fuck? Who says _oma_ anymore? Oh, wait, the guy is from the forties, right? Frozen in ice- wait a minute, is he trying to keep _Peter_ calm? That- that can work. Sure, they can do that. Peter says back to him, cautiously, like he’s scared and so ready to be submissive, just a little lost ommy looking for guidance, here, “Alpha?” Nailed it, slight quaver and all.

The guy breathes in sharply, heart rate stuttering for a second, and glides two more steps closer, sniffing the air in a way that would be insulting except Peter’s been standing in his own scent all night, he _gets_ it. 

This is totally going to make Clint impossible for the next month. Peter can’t believe it’s working.

“Shh, oma, I gotcha,” says the guy, lowly. “Gonna take you out, oma, treat you nice.”

 _Ew_. But okay, whatever. It’s working. Keep going. “Alpha?” Peter repeats, and he starts to turn, so slow, matching the speed of the guy, no surprises here, just a slow lost little omega, in a dark alley in Jersey. He’s just looking for someone to help, that’s all, just looking for some guidance from a friendly alpha, smelling like a goddamn porn movie script wishes it could smell.

“Shh, oma,” says the guy, and now that they’re mostly facing each other, Peter can glance up, under his lashes, submissive and coy. _Go for coy,_ he tells himself, _pretend you’re Tony and this guy is Steve. Hell, pretend you’re Harley and this guy is a cookie he shouldn’t have._ Coy. Go for coy. 

The guy frankly looks like shit. His hair hangs in lanky strands, his skin pale and tight to the bones of his face. His face is twitching, micro-expressions wildly at odds with each other flickering across it in quick succession. The thing is, though, that Peter _knows that face_. He’d had a poster _above his bed_ from like, age four on. He never even took it down when Iron Man became his favorite, he just shifted it over. “Bucky?” he whispers, shocked. Holy shit.

~~~

Cascade. Cascade. The snooping asshole omega has top priority, the omega _is_ the mission.

The omega is the mission. Accepted.

The omega is the mission is the mission is- _take him out, treat him nice, before he blows our cover._ God, he smells so good, best thing I’ve ever smelt, Jesus, what even is that? Don’t make ‘em like they used to and Thank Mother Mary for that, Good Lord. The asset notes he’s weak kneed. Note discarded, no need to track aberrations.

There are alarms going off, but there’s been alarms going off and being suppressed for hours, now. The mission overrides all alarms, supercedes all data, full access to all resources, and _the omega is the mission_.

“Bucky?” whispers the omega. 

“Yeah, doll?” responds the asset automatically. The omega’s scent- _the oeey gooey sweet sticky rile-you-up richness, God, could roll around in it for days_ \- goes shocked, just a thread of it, a tendril of sour in all that sweet. 

“Shhh, I got you,“ croons the asset, soothing. The asset’s unimproved arm reaches out, slides across the omega’s shoulder, not gripping, just touching, just feeling the firm flesh there. The apple pie scent is strong, but that’s okay, Steve don’t mind sharing. Neither does the littlest Widow. 

Aberration tracking disengaged.

“Bucky, you know who you are,” whispers the omega, and there’s distress now, in that sticky-sweet scent, and there shouldn’t be, no omega of his is ever gonna feel so sad, like that. 

“Shh,” rumbles the asset, a little surprised when it rises up like that. There’d been another time, another time he’d wanted to- wanted to rumble, but he couldn’t, and the omega had- the omega had-

Cascade.

Cascade.

When the asset comes back online, its teeth are on the omega’s neck, sunk in just a little. The asset breathes deeply, the sticky-sweet scent the only thing that matters, and shakes the throat, scraping its teeth along the scent pad to release more. 

The omega whines, quiet and low, and the asset shakes him again, just a little. The omega’s not distressed, the omega’s actually releasing so much turned-on it’d be flattering. “B-bucky,” whines the omega and that causes another cascade that traps the asset for a full minute, teeth locked in the omega’s throat. When the asset comes back online, he releases the throat and growls, “Mine.” The rumble, he is pleased to find, is in fine fettle.

“Y-yes, Alpha,” whispers the omega, pupils blown, trembling a little, eyes wide, so wide, so pretty and wide. Smells so good. So pretty and good. “Yes, good, I’ll be yours. Yes, I’ll come, Alpha, come with you. Do you w-want to come back to my d-den?”

Dens are good. Dens are soft and comfortable. Dens are for other people, not “filthy fucking tools, lay there and take it, you filthy fucking animal.” 

Alarm override, mission holds priority.

The omega is the mission. _Take him out._

A den would be… nice. A _nice_ place to take the omega. “Yess,” croons the asset, gently, so gently, don’t startle the omega. “Shh, oma, shhh.”

“So nice to me,” says the omega slowly, hands rising to touch the asset’s scent pads. There’s something wrong with them, they don’t work right- “goddamn glitchy Cold War relic”- but there’s still the faint smell of brownies, mingling with the sticky sweetness of the omega’s overpowering scent. “So good for me, Alpha, so nice.”

“Gonna treat you right,” the asset promises. “Gonna take you out-” - _before our cover’s blown_ \- “-treat you right.”

“I’d like that, Alpha,” whispers the omega. “Bucky, I’d like that, you come to my den, I’ll let you take me anywhere, Bucky.”

The asset ignores the alarms. The omega is the mission. He has to- has to take the omega out, before, before- cascade. Cascade.

“Shh, Alpha,” whimpers the omega, his throat wrapped up snug inside Bucky’s teeth again. His pulse flutters against Bucky’s lips. “Yours, Alpha, Bucky, promise, shhh, come home, come den with me, shhh.”

The asset releases the omega carefully, noting the depth of the marks this time, concerned. Too tight, not gentle enough, dammit. But the omega’s still not scared, still doesn’t smell of the stink of fear, and the asset has smelled omega fear until it makes him sick, he never wants to smell it again, ever.

There’s a sound at the mouth of the alley and the omega calls quickly, “Stay back. Stay- stay back, Steve.”

Steve. The asset snarls at the name and then winces at the cascade that drops just behind the snarl. When the asset comes back online, the omega’s scent has shifted, a bright sharp spike of anger. No fear, not even a hint, no fear, good oma. 

“I said stay back, Steve,” says the omega firmly. “I got it. Just, just stay there. No closer.”

No closer is right. The asset can feel his heart rate spike, can feel adrenaline course down his arms, his legs. He’s ready. He can handle any threat. The mission has top priority and the omega is the mission.

No one approaches. The omega shifts, sliding his arms up the asset’s, reaching to cup the asset’s face, pull it down, kiss the asset’s lips. “Alpha,” he whispers against them. “Alpha, will you come with me, come to my den?”

The asset nods, shocked, shocked at how equipment is suddenly online, as well as a cascade of memories of what can be done, pleasurably- _horribly, horribly, so much fear-_ pleasurably, with said equipment. There doesn’t have to be fear, he knows. There _doesn’t_. There won’t be fear, not with this omega, not with this one, not with- his. Not with his omega. He can- he can- the cascade hits hard and he tips his forehead to rest on his omega’s shoulder, just for a second, just, it _hurts_ so much, his head. Just for a second.

“Good,” croons the omega, which makes a shiver run through the asset. “Good.” 

Good. 

The asset is good, here. The omega agrees. The omega- his omega- says the asset is good and the asset is going to be good, is going to- cascade. Cascade.

The asset is breathing raggedly when he comes online and it takes an impossible second for him to focus, to think, to identify what he’s doing, what the mission is. The mission is- the asset can take out the omega- can take him out- before their cover is blown. Before _our_ cover is blown. 

There’s a voice, now, a voice, chanting, the asset can hear him but not, not with his ears, chanting. It all blurs together, but what the asset can hear is so pleased, so good. _What a doll, smells so good, gonna breed this little oma, what a sweetheart, take him out, treat him so nice._

What a doll. _His_ doll.

“Back out,” orders the omega to the- the _Steve_ \- at the alley entrance. “Let us come out. He wants, he wants to take me out, I think he’s talking about the alley. I want to- I’m going to let him.”

Yes. Yes. He can- the omega is the mission and he can take the omega out, before their cover is blown. The omega steps forward confidently, into the asset’s space, and the asset wraps his arms around the omega’s shoulders from behind. _He’s_ walking the omega. _He’s_ taking the omega out. Before their cover is blown, he can- he’s- this is the top priority, this mission.

Alarms are going off so hard, and cascades are coming so fast, so many aberrations, it’s hard, it’s hard to think, but he doesn’t have to think, he just has to put one foot, and then the next, and pretty soon they’re at the mouth of the alley and there’s the sharp line of light from the lamp. One more step and he’ll have _taken the omega out_. The omega must sense his hesitation, because he holds still, waiting, so patient, such a good oma, to wait so patiently, to wait, to be ready, to let the alpha handle this, to trust the alpha. Alpha’s gonna treat you right, solnyshko, thinks the asset dizzily.

The asset takes a deep breath and pushes them both forward, into the light. Mission accomplished. The relief almost has the asset on his knees right there, in the pool of light, and he knows he’d be swaying if it wasn’t for the omega he’s draped over. God, the omega smells so good, home and happiness and safety and sweet, God, the sweet. So much sticky sweetness.

Across the street, the apple pie alpha gasps, “Bucky?”

**Author's Note:**

> Everything's slow going right now, but surely. Things are settling down the the family so it's less frantic and while one of my jobs has definitely kicked into high gear, the other three have been completely halted. I hope everything's going well with you. Please feel free to shout out in the comments so I know you're okay. I'll respond to everyone because I know feeling that human connection is important right now!!
> 
> Looking for a hit of this universe while you wait for me?! Check out Orchidaexa’s Daredevil, Deadpool, and Spidey story, written in this AU: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073085


End file.
